Captivancy
by Sselene
Summary: Spock doesn't know how long he's been in that alien jail, bearing every kind of torture. He doesn't remember when was the last time he has spoken with Pavel, his jail mate. He doesn't know when his mind will break down. He just hopes Jim will save them soon, because Pavel can't last long. And Spock neither.


Time had stopped a long before, swallowed by a void, a black hole of nothingness, deleted by the monotony of the days, devoid of its meaning, because days and nights were the same, and weeks, and months and maybe years, were the same, and he didn't know if the time was still flowing. Does the time still run when there is no one to witness it? He couldn't force himself to care.

He couldn't remember when was the last time he had spoken with his jail mate or with their captors. He couldn't even remember the last time he had watched his jail mate or the lat time he had moved at all. He couldn't remember when the numeric sequences he kept mumbling in his mind to keep it clear had become senseless strings of letters and numbers, and maybe words, too.

He did remember he has been good. He had bear every kind of torture the aliens had inflict to him, calling his whole Vulcan strength so he could endure them. He had bear physical pain and mental games and hallucinations and every kind of torment their captor had inflict to him. He had to. He had to be strong and to endure so that the aliens wouldn't focus on his jail mate. Pavel was only a little and fragile human, he couldn't survive alone, he couldn't bear those torture, he needed him to protect him and to save him and to keep him focused on reality. He needed him. When Jim came for them, to save them from that imprisonment, he could crumble under all the sufferance and the pain, he could let Jim comfort him, he could let him watch his Vulcan strength fall apart piece after piece. He could be just a little bit too human, just a little bit too emotional and no one would say anything about it. But now, now he needed to be strong. For Pavel. He couldn't permit those aliens to reach him, because Pavel couldn't survive their torture, his human mind would had fallen to pieces way before the Enterprise's crew came to save them. He had to protect him.

Spock tensed when he heard footsteps outside the corridor of the room they were enslaved in. Their jail didn't have a door of a camp force or anything like that; they were theoretically free to move, free to exit their jail and go around and escape and do whatever they wanted. Theoretically. But there were hundreds or maybe thousands of aliens and they were everywhere, making impossible a flee. They had tried, but the aliens kept to catch them and punish them and after some tries, they had renounce. They kept waiting patiently for their friend to save them. Sometimes their captor came and tortured them –tortured Spock, mostly, but that was okay, it was better that way. Usually they came unheard, moving swiftly on the floor on their twelve or thirteen tentacles, but sometimes they pretended humanoid footsteps just to give them fake hopes. They liked to mess up with their mind and their hopes, it was just another way to torture them, to make their mind crumble and fall apart.

Once they pretended they were Jim and Doctor McCoy and other members of the Enterprise and it was so real they believed them. The horror when they discovered it was just an illusion made Pavel break and cry and was Spock a simple human, maybe they wouldn't be alive anymore. But they had endured that torture, too. And they had learned.

He wasn't too surprised when the figure of his captain came into vision.

"Spock!"

The voice was exactly like Kirk's and so were his appearance and his reactions: he seemed exactly Captain, his Jim, there was nothing wrong with him, nothing amiss, nothing he could point to know he was not Jim. He was even truer that his first apparition. But he knew that he was not his captain, he knew he was just another illusion, he knew he couldn't believe him. And he didn't.

"Spock…" The fake Jim called again and his worry felt so true on his skin he thought, just for a moment, he could just trust him, even if he was not Jim. He could just give up and let them do whatever they wanted to do to him, because he was so tired to fight and that illusion seemed his Captain so much. But he couldn't give up. Pavel needed him.

"Spock, please… look at me, Spock, talk to me…"

Although Jim was occupying almost his whole visual field, because he was intently watching in front of him, feigning an ignorance he didn't really have, hoping the aliens would grown tired soon, he could make out glimpses of other persons –two men and a woman- and he could sense McCoy's voice from his left, near Pavel. He tensed a little bit, but he knew he didn't have to worry. Pavel was only human, his mind was fragile and easy to break, but he remembered the first illusion and he wouldn't believe them if Spock didn't believe them. He wouldn't follow those delusions.

"Spock, please…" The voice made him concentrating again on the man before him. Jim was pleading in a way his Captain never did, but would if he had to. It was the exact voice he would use in a situation similar of the one they were in. He could almost hear tears in his voice and something cold knotted in his stomach, but he resisted the urge to grab and hug the man. It was a good play, maybe the best the aliens ever put on, but he knew better. He wasn't a simple human, he was a Vulcan and he knew better.

"Spock…" Perhaps as a last chance, the fake Jim neared him even more, covering his hand with his own, just slightly hesitant, as he feared Spock could react violently. Spock wanted to, he wanted to shove off the alien, but he couldn't, because the touch had let him freeze. He hadn't seen it coming, he hadn't prepared himself to bear it. It travelled through his blood like an electric shock, making him tremble, but that wasn't the most surprising part of it. The touch travelled toward his mind and his heart, enlightening them with familiars memories and emotions and feelings… with everything that was his captain's mind. Those aliens couldn't pretend that.

He looked at Jim, he watched him, searching through his worry something that could told him he was real, he was there and he was him. He didn't have to search it in his face or in his eyes, because his mind already told me, but he'd been in jail for a long time and he needed to see his Jim.

He saw him.

"Jim…?" He murmured with hoarse voice, because his vocal chord didn't know anymore how to work. The captain smiled the brightest smile he had ever seen on him or on anyone else and Spock felt a warm feeling spread inside of him: happiness, relief, joy. He was free. Pavel and he were free, Jim had saved him. He wanted to cry, but it wasn't the right moment.

"Yes!" Jim exclaimed. "Yes, Spock, it's me, it's Jim! I'm here, we're here, we'll take you back home, you don't have to worry. You're safe now, do you understand me? You're safe. We have you. Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Spock hesitated, trying to recompose his Vulcan façade, trying to regain his composure, even though it was so hard and he wanted just to hug his Captain and never let go and cry and scream, because he was safe, because Jim was there and they didn't have to worry anymore..

"I am… quite unharmed, Captain." He said, because he couldn't give up yet, because he had to help Pavel, first. On the ship, he would cry and scream and hug Jim, but now he couldn't.

"Pavel…" He whispered.

"I don't think he's okay." Came McCoy's voice in reply. He was surprised he had heard him, seeing the low voice he had used. "I could hypospray him, so that we could transport him on the ship, but in his condition I don't think it's the best idea." He sighed. "But I don't know what else to do, he doesn't speak… I'm not even sure he hears and sees me. I think it's lost in his mind." He hesitated, glancing towards the Vulcan. "What… what they did to you…?" He asked, trying to mask his concern.

Spock didn't reply, because they hadn't time and he didn't want to think about the tortures, not now. Turning toward him, he could see the young boy, sitting straight with his back against the wall, the eyes fixed straight ahead on him, the hands clutched on his lap. He hadn't looked at him maybe for days or maybe less or maybe more, but he was almost sure the last time he had seen him, he was exactly in that position. The only difference was the beard that covered his face and his neck, but he wasn't totally sure about it.

"Let me…" It was very hard to speak, because his throat was unused and it burned. Above all, he didn't know anymore how to put in words his thoughts, he didn't know how to say things he didn't have to words to explain, because he hadn't even think about it for a long time. They understood him, somehow, and both Jim and McCoy helped him stand up and walk, or maybe stumble, towards Pavel. He kneeled near him, sighing because the walk had been more tiring that he could ever expect and his legs ached. But he hadn't time to worry about himself. He took the hand of the Russian between his owns.

"Pavel…" He called.

The young boy blinked some times, focusing his gaze, as he would do if he was just waking up from a deep sleep. In a certain sense, he was. He looked at him, forming words without sound for some moments.

"Spock…" He murmured at least, voice hoarse because of the long silence.

"It is me." The Vulcan confirmed. "Pavel, they are here. Jim, McCoy… they are here, they have saved us." He explained softly end slowly, searching carefully every single word. "Now we can go back to the spaceship and forget about here. We are free, we are safe. It… it will be hard, but we are safe, they have saved us. It will be okay."

Pavel listened to him with a blank expression, blinking ever so often, repeating some of his words with a silent movement of his lips. At the end of his little speech, he just smiled, with sadness and fondness and so much pain. He touched his face with the slightest touch of fingers.

"Spock…" He whispered. "They're not here."

"We are!" Jim exclaimed, kneeling on the other side of the young boy, grabbing his arm, but he didn't even acknowledged him. "Pavel we're here! We're here! Look at me, Pavel, I'm here. It's me, it's Jim, I'm here, you're safe, now! Look at me!"

"They are here." Spock repeated, tightening his grip on Pavel's hand. "Pavel they are true, this time. They are here. Jim is here. They are he to take us on the ship, they here to save us. It is okay, now, Pavel, we are safe, now."

Pavel shook his head, never leaving Spock's eyes with his own. He pulled the Vulcan nearer, hugging him tightly, with his hand on his shoulder, the eyes closed, the lips near his ear so that he could speak with the lowest voice.

"It's okay, Spock, it's okay." He murmured sweetly. "I'm here, we're here together. You don't have to worry, they won't hurt you anymore, I won't let them do it. It's okay. I've got you and I'm not letting you go, okay? I've got you."

"But they are here!" Spock shouted, his voice strangled with choked tears. "It is them. It is Jim. It must be Jim." He swallowed hard, because he didn't want to cry, he couldn't cry. He had to be strong, he had to be strong for Pavel. He couldn't let Pavel see his weakness or he would freak out. "I need him to be Jim. It must be Jim."

"It's not." Pavel said, softly but firmly, hugging Spock tighter. "Jim's not here, Spock, but you don't have to worry, okay? I'm here. I'm here. They won't hurt you, I won't let them do it. I'll protect you. You don't have to worry, I'm here. I'm here." He repeated like a twisted lullaby, stroking gently his hair. "They won't hurt you anymore." He promised.

Spock swallowed his tears, glancing to his right.

Jim wasn't there anymore.


End file.
